Everlasting Kiss Page 3

  That was Julius’s answer to everything, Erik thought, but then, it wasn’t surprising. A former drug dealer, Julius Romano had been turned when he was twenty-three. With his short brown hair and mild brown eyes, he had often passed himself off as a high school kid when looking for new customers. Now that he was a vampire, he still preyed on the young and the innocent—the younger the better.

  Rhys snorted. “Taking hunters out is sometimes easier said than done. And from what Tina told me, the Blood Thief didn’t leave so much as a footprint behind. No scent, nothing.”

  Rupert shrugged. “Maybe Tina imagined the whole thing.”

  “I did not!” Tina exclaimed hotly.

  Erik crossed his arms over his chest. It was almost eleven. If Daisy had gone to the Crypt, she had surely left by now. “This isn’t getting us anywhere,” he muttered. “I’m going home.”

  “Erik…” Rhys spoke mildly, but the warning was there, just the same.

  But Erik wasn’t listening. Moving with preternatural speed, he left Costain’s house. Impatience, anger, and disappointment intensified his hunger and he preyed on the first lone mortal he encountered.

  Later, strolling toward home, he told himself it was just as well that there had been a council meeting that night. The last thing he needed was to get involved with a mortal female like Daisy O’Donnell.

  Chapter 5

  Daisy went hunting the next afternoon. Driving through the city, she tried not to think about Erik, but the more she tried to put him out of her mind, the more firmly entrenched he became. She couldn’t help wondering why he hadn’t showed up. He didn’t have a job, so he hadn’t been working late. Maybe he had just decided she wasn’t his cup of tea. Maybe he had arrived at the Crypt before nine and found someone he found more appealing. Or maybe he had lied about being married and his wife wouldn’t let him out of the house.

  She spent two hours driving up one street and down another, and at the end of that time, she had nothing to show for it. She glanced at the compass again. The needle remained gold, unmoving. Muttering, “Oh, well, you can’t win them all,” she turned the car around and drove into town. After picking up her mail at the post office, she had a quick lunch at the coffee shop, and then, on impulse, she decided to treat herself to a manicure and a facial before going home.

  She felt better, inside and out, when she left the salon. There was nothing like a little pampering to chase away the blues.

  Later, at home, she couldn’t seem to settle down. She wandered through the house, her thoughts constantly turning toward Erik. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his face. Like it or not, his image seemed indelibly imprinted on her mind. Where was he now? Why hadn’t he shown up?

  “Stop it,” she muttered. “You’re not the first woman in this century to be stood up, and you won’t be the last.” But it hurt just the same.

  She ate dinner, then turned on the TV and flipped through the channels. It must have been down-with-love night, because every movie channel featured ill-fated lovers, from Dracula and Mina to Heathcliff and Cathy.

  With a wordless cry of frustration, Daisy tossed the remote on the coffee table. Drumming her fingers on the arm of the sofa, she glanced at her watch. It was almost ten o’clock. Was he at the Crypt, hoping she would show up? Maybe he had a good explanation for last night. Maybe he would have called if she had given him her number.

  Chiding herself for being a hopeless fool, she grabbed her handbag and her keys and headed out the door.

  The Crypt didn’t do much business on a Monday night. Daisy sat at a table in the back of the room, an untouched margarita in one hand. There were perhaps a dozen people at the bar. The dance floor was empty. Three young men were shooting pool. Two women shared a table near Daisy’s. The younger of the two was pouring out her heart to her friend. From what Daisy could overhear, the younger woman had just discovered her husband was being unfaithful.

  Maybe Mr. Right didn’t exist for anyone. Well, except for Jennifer, who was off on her honeymoon and, according to her last letter, having the time of her life with the love of her life. But who knew how long that would last? These days, some marriages were over almost before they began. Daisy sighed. If there was a Mr. Right in her future, she certainly wasn’t going to find him in a place like this.

  She glanced at her drink, still untouched, and decided she didn’t need it. What she needed was to go to Boston and visit her family. Her parents had their differences and their disagreements, but they had managed to survive thirty-five years of married life without killing each other. Maybe that was the best you could hope for. Maybe she would take her mom’s advice and go out with Kevin O’Reilly. And maybe she wouldn’t.

  And maybe it was time to call it a night. It was almost eleven.

  She was reaching for her handbag when there was a subtle change in the atmosphere in the room. Even before she saw him walking toward her, Daisy knew Erik had entered the Crypt.

  She clutched her handbag. Seeing him, she felt suddenly foolish. Why had she come here? He would know she had come here looking for him. How pathetic was that? Why hadn’t she stayed home where she belonged, and let him come to her, if he had a mind to?

  She would have fled, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. And then it was too late.

  “Daisy.”

  Just her name, but hearing it on his lips made her stomach curl with pleasure. “Erik.” She pressed her handbag to her chest. “I was just leaving.”

  “So soon?”

  She shrugged. “It’s late.”

  “Not really.” His gaze moved over her, warming every place it rested. “At least give me one dance.”

  “There’s no music.” The band didn’t play on Monday or Tuesday nights.

  “There’s always music when you’re around,” he murmured.

  Daisy frowned as a slow ballad emanated from the jukebox. How had that happened? No one had put any money in the machine.

  “One dance?” Erik coaxed.

  She knew it was a mistake, but she couldn’t resist the thought of being in his arms again. “All right, maybe just one.” She dropped her handbag on the table, then let him lead her onto the empty dance floor.

  “I’m sorry about last night,” he murmured as he took her into his arms.

  With a sigh, Daisy melted into his embrace. Later, she would demand to know why he had stood her up, but not now. Now all she wanted was to forget everything else and enjoy being close to him. But a little nagging voice in the back of her mind had other ideas.

  “Where were you last night?” The words slipped past her lips before she could call them back.

  “At a business meeting.”

  “Really?” she said, her voice frosty. “I didn’t know men who didn’t work had meetings.”

  “It wasn’t work related. Simply a meeting of an…an organization I’m heavily involved in.”

  “What kind of organization?”

  “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

  She frowned at him. “Very funny.” Irritated, she tried to pull away, but his arm tightened around her waist. “Let me go.”

  “No. I’d tell you if I could, but I really can’t talk about it. I’m sorry about last night. Believe me, I’d much rather have been here, with you. Forgive me?”

  She wanted to hang on to her anger, but how could she when he was looking at her like that? He had the most expressive eyes, deep and black, with thick lashes that any woman would envy.

  He smiled a slow, sexy smile. “I knew you couldn’t stay mad at me.” The music ended, but he didn’t let her go. She felt a little silly standing there in the middle of the dance floor, swaying back and forth when the music had stopped.

  “How about that date?” he asked, “now that you know me better?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Still a little angry about last night?”

  “Maybe.”

  He blew out a sigh. “Will you meet me here tomorrow night?”<
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  “I don’t know. Will you show up this time?”

  “I promise.” Bending down, he kissed the tip of her nose. “I didn’t promise last time.”

  “All right. I’ll give you one more chance.”

  “What time will you be here?”

  “Eight thirty.”

  He nodded. “Eight thirty. Tomorrow night,” he said with a grin. “It’s a date.”

  Daisy woke Tuesday morning with a smile on her face. She told herself not to get too excited. Just because he had promised to show up didn’t mean he would. But she couldn’t stop smiling.

  She showered and dressed, made her bed, ate a quick breakfast, read her e-mail, and left the house, her mind filled with thoughts of Erik.

  Daisy had been driving around the north side for almost an hour when she realized that the only lairs her compass was leading her to were houses or hideouts she had already visited. The same held true for the east side. Since she hated to visit the same lair more than two or three times, she decided it was time to widen her net. Up until now, she had avoided the slums on the south side, and the upscale west side, but that was about to change. She had orders to fill.

  Making a sharp U-turn, she drove south. She seemed to recall her father telling her that one of the New Orleans vamps had recently taken up residence in this part of the city. If anyone would know, it was her dad. He had been a vampire hunter most of his adult life.

  Daisy had only gone a couple of blocks when the needle on her compass changed colors. Muttering, “thanks, Dad,” Daisy made a quick left turn.

  The lair was located in a run-down motel that, by the looks of it, had gone out of business quite some time ago. The windows were boarded up. The grass was dead. The pool was empty. Several sun-faded signs warned against trespassing.

  Daisy parked out of sight behind the motel. After spraying herself with Scent-B-Gone, she grabbed the tools of her trade and followed the compass. It led her into the motel office. Following the now bright-red needle, she went through the office door and down a narrow hallway that led into a small room that held nothing but an old-fashioned, beat-up, boxlike freezer.

  Frowning, Daisy stared at the needle and then at the freezer. She tapped the compass lightly, but the needle continued to point at the freezer. Daisy grunted softly. The vampires on the popular TV show Moonlight had slept in freezers. She had never heard of real-life vampires doing such a thing and thought it rather odd, but, hey, the whole vampire thing was odd.

  Shrugging, she reached for the lid, only it wouldn’t open. Locked from the inside, perhaps. Time for the crowbar.

  It took several tries, but she finally managed to pry the lid open. A shiny black coffin rested inside the freezer.

  With a shake of her head, Daisy put the crowbar aside and lifted the lid of the coffin. The vampire inside wore a flamboyant red dressing gown embroidered with silver dragons and green pagodas. His bright red hair made a sharp contrast to the white satin lining.

  Daisy was reaching for her syringe when the vampire’s eyelids flew open. His eyes, a pale brown, quickly turned a hellish red as his hand—his cold, dead hand—snaked out and grabbed her by the wrist. His grip was like iron.

  For a taut moment, they stared at each other. Then, with a shriek, Daisy yanked a wooden stake from her jacket pocket, only then realizing that, with only one free hand, she couldn’t hold the stake and use the mallet at the same time. In a panic, she raised the stake and drove it into the vampire’s heart.

  She had never staked a vampire before and she was surprised at how easily the wood pierced its flesh, and how quickly the body turned to ash, until all that remained was the gaudy dressing gown looking like a splash of fresh blood on the white satin, and her stake.

  Daisy pressed a hand to her chest as her legs went out from under her and she slid down to the floor.

  She had destroyed a vampire, killed something that had once been human. The idea filled her with horror and revulsion. She had taken a life.

  Turning her head to the side, she was quietly sick to her stomach.

  Erik drummed his fingers on the bar top. Either Daisy was late, or she wasn’t coming. Was this her way of getting back at him for standing her up the other night? Or had something happened to her? Perhaps she was sick, or injured. Humans were such fragile creatures. The thought of her in pain distressed him more than it should have. He hardly knew the woman, although that was something he hoped to remedy as quickly as possible.

  By ten thirty, he accepted the fact that she wasn’t going to show. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt such keen disappointment.

  He was about to leave the club when Rhys appeared at his side. Vampires were notorious for keeping their emotions well hidden, but one look at Rhys’s face and Erik knew something was wrong.

  “It’s Saul.” Costain’s words, though quietly spoken, were edged with steel. “He’s been destroyed.”

  After taking a long, hot bubble bath, Daisy put on her favorite pj’s and her fluffy white robe and curled up in a corner of the sofa. She couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t get the image of the vampire’s hell-red eyes out of her head. She hadn’t wanted to destroy him. All she had wanted was a little of his blood. Was that so bad? Strange that there had been no blood when she drove the stake into his heart. Maybe he wasn’t really dead. Maybe he had just disappeared. Worked a little vampire voodoo and vanished. Wishful thinking, that.

  She told herself it had been self-defense. She had seen her death in the vampire’s hellish gaze and her instinct for self-preservation had kicked in. She’d had no choice. It had been him or her. And he was already dead.

  Drawing her robe tighter around her, she went into the kitchen for a cup of hot tea heavily laced with honey, hoping it would calm her nerves.

  It didn’t. Maybe she should have added a shot of brandy, only she didn’t keep anything stronger than root beer in the house.

  Knowing she was never going to be able to sleep, she turned on the TV and skipped through the channels until she found an old comedy she hadn’t seen in a while. But even Gene Wilder couldn’t chase the memory of what she had done from her mind.

  She glanced at the clock, hit Mute on the remote, then picked up the phone. She knew her dad was in bed at this time of the night, but she needed someone to talk to.

  The sound of his sleepy hello made her feel a hundred percent better.

  “Daisy?” His voice sharpened. “Is something wrong, honey?”

  “I…I destroyed a vampire tonight.”

  “Are you all right?” he asked, his voice sharp with concern.

  “Yes. Did you hear what I said?”

  “I heard. What happened?”

  She told him, as quickly and succinctly as she could, what she had done.

  “It was you or him, honey, you did the right thing. I’m just glad you’re okay. Do you need us to come out there?”

  “No.” Now that she was feeling a little better, she was ashamed of herself for calling home. But then, it had been calling home that made her feel better. As far back as she could remember, her father had been her bulwark. He had never made light of her fears, never chided her for being afraid. Instead, he had helped her face her fears, whether it was her dislike of spiders, or her irrational fear of the dark.

  “Do you know which vamp you destroyed?”

  “No. But I think he must have been an old one, otherwise he wouldn’t have turned to ash. I don’t know if it was the one you told me about or not.”

  “An older-looking vamp with gray hair?”

  “No, this one had red hair. Bright red.”

  “Ah, Saul.”

  “Saul.” Knowing his name made it worse somehow.

  “Daisy?”

  “I’m all right, Dad. Sorry I woke you.”

  “No problem, honey. Mom wants to say hi.”

  Daisy assured her mother she was fine, then spent the next ten minutes listening while Irene O’Donnell extolled Kevin O’Reilly’s many virtues. />
  “Yes, Mom, I’m sure he’s wonderful,” Daisy said, hoping to cut the conversation short by agreeing with her mother. “He sounds like a cross between Brad Pitt and Johnny Depp. Yes, Mom, I love you, too. Good night.”

  Tossing the cell phone on the table, Daisy grabbed one of the sofa pillows and clutched it to her chest as images of a vampire moved across the silent TV screen. With an aggrieved sigh, she switched off the set, only then remembering that she had missed her first real date with Erik.

  Chapter 6

  Irene O’Donnell sat up, a worried expression on her face. “You should have told Daisy to come home,” she said, folding her arms over her chest. “She would have listened to you.”

  “She’s a big girl,” Noah O’Donnell replied. “Sure and she’ll be all right.”

  Irene shook her head. “Dealing in vampire blood is no fit occupation for a young woman. It’s bad enough that our sons followed in your footsteps.”

  “Darlin’,” Noah said patiently, “we’ve been through this before.”

  “And we’re going through it again. Daisy is a beautiful girl. She should be out looking for a husband, not vampires.”

  “Oh, Lord, don’t start with Kevin O’Reilly again,” Noah said, groaning. “The man’s a first-class idiot.”

  “He is not!” Irene said hotly. “He’s a perfectly fine young man with a wonderful future.”

  “He’s an insurance salesman.”

  “And what’s wrong with that? It’s a nice, safe line of work. Steady income. Fixed hours. Good retirement. “

  “Safe!” Noah scoffed.

  “What’s wrong with safe?”

  “He’s boring. Daisy would never be happy with him in a million years. Our girl needs a man who’s strong enough to stand beside her and hold his own, not some namby-pamby insurance salesman who’d run for cover at the first sign of danger.”